It's Not Just About Sex

Lately, I’ve been talking about some very strong struggles going on within me. I know I’ve made myself addicted to pornography and masturbation, and that I’ve used those two things to try to ease some of the stress, loneliness, and outright depression that I’ve felt. And, to an extent, I know that I’ve felt somewhat more normal or allowed to just be myself through seeing pornography. I see other men doing things that to me just seem to be a normal thing to want. I see them and I feel less different, I guess. But I know these are two things that I want to fight, and I’ve been trying really hard to stop engaging in both over the course of the last few weeks. I’ve admittedly had some falls along the way, but I’ve also found that the longer I’ve tried, the less the desires have been to give into them.

At the same time, however, I have been taking a second look at my decision to remain celibate. This has been brought on by certain lingering doubts that have developed over the course of this last year. I’ve thought about certain various aspects of the Christian faith and wondered seriously if Christians throughout time haven’t managed to get a few things wrong now and then. I see some things that are contradictory or that just don’t make sense at all really. And so I wonder if I’ve honestly made the right decision.

I believe God loves me and will always love me no matter what I do. I believe I am saved through Christ, and that I am offered forgiveness through that faith. I know that forgiveness doesn’t mean I am free to sin without care. I do care. But I know that no matter how hard I’ve ever tried, I always manage to sin one way or another eventually. I know my only hope is through Christ. And I know in my heart He will forgive me if I get a few things wrong.

I have also disclosed the fact that I am in love with someone. I’ve loved him for going on four years now. I wish so much I could be with him. And this is not just about sex, or lust, or anything like that. I know I love him because of who he is, how much we have in common, how much I enjoy his company, how much it warms my soul just the thought of him.

A newfound friend wrote to me the other day, including an excerpt from a story by Corrie Ten Boom. In the story, Corrie was in love with a man who ended up marrying someone else, and her father gave her the advice to pray to love this man in a different way.

I’ve tried to do this myself. Sometimes it helps, but more often than not, it just makes me feel as though I’m throwing away the best thing that could ever happen to me. But I go on trying to let God lead me wherever and to whomever he sees fit.

I’m trying. That’s all I can really say right now.

In all of this, I have actually been in better spirits the last few days. For anyone who has been praying for me, I want to thank you, because I’m sure it’s helped. How much better would life be if we would all pray so much more for each other? I think it’d surprise us a lot.

All Things Considering

Whenever I fall, I like to know why. What stumped me? Could it have been prevented? The whole who, what, when, where, why, and how of the situation.

I know I’ve not completely made up my mind that being with another man is wrong. I don’t mean that I think sleeping around with men isn’t wrong. I mean that I’m not sure if I dated another man, if we fell in love with each other, decided to commit ourselves to each other, and then made love that that would be wrong. There are so many reasons for me to believe that it isn’t. There are several reasons for me to believe that it is as well though. And so I’m torn between the two. I actually do see beauty in two men, or two women, being in love with each other. And I think about what we are told love is, and I see nothing from its description in the bible that would make me believe that my love for another man wouldn’t be celebrated.

I see enough contradictions between the Old and New Testament to give me some serious doubt about absolutely all homosexual activity being sinful. In love, I’m not sure it is. And even if it is, I’m not sure it’s something damning. If we are saved through faith, then isn’t faith in itself what truly saves us? Of course if we are truly saved, then our actions must surely reflect that. But if we get certain things wrong, either knowing or unknowingly, are we no longer saved through our faith? If I fell in love with another man and committed myself to him for the rest of my life, and, yes, made love with him during that time, would that really bar me from Heaven? Would Jesus really frown upon our expressing our love for each other? I don’t think me being in a lifelong, committed, sexual relationship with another man would necessarily damn me. But I do wonder if it is truly sinful, because if it is I want to resist.

I’ve been praying about this for years and I can’t seem to get any real answer that doesn’t include some level of uncertainty with it. And so, I am torn between two thoughts. If I loved a man, would God not, like me, find some degree of beauty in our coming together, and approve of such a relationship? Or, would such a thing be a sin, whether love is involved or not? There are reasons for me to believe both positions, and each holds weight.

I think not knowing what to think about this certainly played a part in my recent fall, and that of many other times—allowing me to delve into fantasies about what my life could be like.

I also believe that I am stressed far more than I should be, and as I expressed in my last post, pornography and masturbation help with this. It’s a quick fix to the thought of certain problems in life. And so I know stress played its part.

Not feeling connected with God was also an influence. There are times when I just cannot feel his presence with me. I like to think that I’m walking hand in hand with God by my side, but a lot of times I feel like I’m reaching out and only clutching air. I look around and cannot find him. I feel alone and deserted. I feel like He’s ran ahead of me, and I have to sprint through an elaborately cruel obstacle course just to keep a glimpse of him in my view. I know this isn’t true, but I find it so hard to fight these thoughts sometimes. I feel bad for one reason or another and I begin finding it more difficult to keep my grasp, as though my fingers are pulling away, and I’m reaching to no avail. I felt like that before this last fall. I wanted God to help me, to intervene somehow, but He didn’t. He was most likely there, but for some reason I just couldn’t see Him. I felt like I had to rely on my own strength, which just isn’t anywhere near good enough.

And then I know I didn’t use the best judgment. I knew I was very tempted to look up pornography, but I got on my computer anyway. It’d have been okay had I kept my door open or taken my computer into the living room. But I didn’t do either. And there again, I’d have been okay had I not gotten on my computer at all until those temptations had passed. I didn’t guard myself against the temptations the best way possible. In fact, I can see how very little prepared I was to fight those temptations. I think about this and wonder if perhaps that is why God didn’t intervene. Maybe to fall was the only way I’d see how ill prepared I was.

And then there are emotions. Anger, fear, hopelessness, jealousy, hate, regret, shame, sadness, and worry are all things that can cause you to stumble. I know I was feeling some of these things before I gave in. I know I need to learn better ways of dealing with these sorts of negative emotions.

There may be other reasons for this last fall, but these were the things I’ve been able to identify.

Drug

So, what is my drug? What makes me feel good when the going gets tough? What helps me faster than anything to get that high, that numbness, that sense of calm and relief?

The answer… pornography and masturbation.

Last night I went to bed feeling completely hopeless. And I woke up this morning feeling the same way. I felt like a zombie all day long, as though anything that mattered in the world was completely gone. And I couldn’t find God. I couldn’t bring myself to go to Him. And as the day went, the more tempted I became. Old memories, flashes of images I’d just assume forget, constantly popped up in my mind.

I kept trying to block out the idea, especially after getting home. But as I got on my computer to check my email, those thoughts seemed to pound upon me. I finished looking up my email, replied where necessary, looked at my blog for a moment, and then pushed my laptop away. It just seemed to put a trance on me though. I knew how easy it would be. I knew I wanted to. I knew it’d make the pain go away. I put my hand up on the screen to close my laptop, but it just sort of sat there. I couldn’t bring myself to turn it off, to run, to flee. And then my hand was back on the mouse pad. I froze. I couldn’t bring myself to go ahead in either direction. And I started crying and praying and yet those images and the pain kept darting across my mind. I prayed for God to give me a way out. My heart was pounding, I was breathing deeply, and before God could ever do that, my fingers started working and I was looking up pornography. And then that led to masturbation.

My drug…

An hour and a half later I seem to be thinking much more clearly than I was. For starters, I know I never should have got on my computer feeling as tempted as I was. And I should have done more throughout the day to reach out to God. I’m not going to make any excuses for myself. After five days of living without these things, I had to give in just for a few moments of good feelings? No. I took a cheap, sleazy, quick way out, instead doing what I should have done.

And so now that I’ve fallen, I will have to pick myself back up (more like God will have to drag me up), dust off, look back ahead down that long, narrow road, and start treading along once more.

Just Stop!

Earlier today I found the blog of another Christian battling with same sex attraction. I was glad I did, because truth be told, a great number of the blogs I’ve typically kept up with have either ended, or it’s been a very long time since anyone posted anything on them. Finding this new blog gave me a chance to actually feel not as alone in this struggle as I’ll admit I’ve been feeling some lately. But, above that, and more importantly, it also gave me a chance to read several very encouraging things.

To begin with, this fellow blogger, Tom, wrote that at one point he’d been able to resist pornography for about eight months. And he’d only masturbated once during that time. Being that those are two things I’ve been trying very seriously to resist the last couple of weeks, I have to say that I find this a great source of hope—if he could do that, then so can I (today, by the way, marks three days in a row that I haven’t masturbated or looked up pornography, and I thank God for that).

But in reading some of Tom’s stuff, I came across one post where he talks about a sermon he’d heard. The preacher, who was usually rather calm and mild, suddenly screamed out, “Stop it! Just stop it! No more! Let today be the day that you just leave that sin all behind you." I read this and it reminded me of something I experienced a few years ago. It reminded me of a dream. I’ve thought about this dream in light of a more recent one I had about a week ago, which I’ve already told you about. In the dream, I stood looking up at a really tall tree in my front yard, which stands near the road. I was amazed by the scale of the tree. Then suddenly my dad appeared. But it wasn’t really my dad. He looked and sounded like my dad, but I knew he was really someone else. He smiled at me and then told me, “Just stop.” And when He said it, I knew exactly what he was talking about. He was telling me to stop looking at porn. He was telling me to stop masturbating. He was telling me to stop going down a path of outright homosexual living. That was another dream where I woke up shaking, out of breath. It was just so realistic. And I knew the second I was awake what it meant. God was telling me, appearing as my dad, that I had a path to choose. I could go left or right, but only one would lead to the tree of life. Reading Tom’s post reminded me of this (I think I wrote about this dream in more detail sometime a few years ago).

I know pornography and masturbation are the two things that lead me most toward completely giving in to my desires to be with another man. These things tempt me the most toward that. That being the case, I really want to put up as much resolve as possible to stop doing those things.

A road block in the past for me has been my mindset. I’d rationalize going a day at a time, a week at a time, and so forth, as if that was good enough. I’d promise not to give in at least until a certain time. But then I’d always fail or give in after I’d met that expectation (as if it was a reward for past good effort). And the reason I sat such limited goals was because I honestly don’t think I ever expected I could go beyond them. To never, EVER, look up pornography or masturbate again just seemed impossible. Pornography I could probably live without. But could I really go the rest of my life without ever masturbating? Could I really go the rest of my life with absolutely no means of sexual release or pleasure? Looking back, I know I haven’t believed in that. But I wonder now if I really could. I know it’d be a struggle. I know it’d probably drive me crazy at times. But I also know that I want that; that it’s worth trying for. I want to be able to resist, to truly free myself from some of the crap I’ve encased myself in. I just want to stop. I want to resist because it’s the right thing to do, because it brings me closer to God.

And so, if you’re reading this, please pray for me. As I said earlier, I’m on day three, and I really, really, REALLY, want to be able to keep this up. And, Tom, if you happen to read this, thanks for writing about your own journey. You give me much encouragement.

Fighting Temptations

Yesterday marked the 8th day I had resisted the urge to masturbate. I consider this a victory, and one which, without God’s help, I know I would have never been able to accomplish. And I did it for God.

It was certainly a struggle. Masturbation is something that I used to try really hard to resist. I spent at least three or four years doing my best not to give into this. Throughout that whole time I kept struggling and would always inevitably go off on a binge until coming back to my senses. The last two or three years, however, I really haven’t tried to resist at all. If I felt like it and could, I just did it.

Recently, though, I have been wondering back to those days when I tried not to do this. I knew it was a struggle, and I did just get really tired always fighting and failing to resist this thing. That’s why I eventually just gave up trying to fight and thought it best simply to rely on God’s forgiveness (which alone, I just don’t think is enough—I have to do my part as well). But I’ve felt lately that it was a fight I should have kept struggling through—that I shouldn’t have given up.

I won’t lie; masturbation has got to be one of the hardest things to completely give up (at least for me). And I think, deep down, it is something that should be given up, and better yet, I should never have started at all. I believe this simply because it is one of those acts which seems to always accompany fantasies of sex between other men or of sex between other men and me. I find it virtually impossible to prevent myself from lusting whenever I do this. If done without lusting, I’m honestly not sure it would be a sin, but that’s something I can’t seem to do. And so, as of late, I’ve just felt a stronger conviction to try more in earnest, yet again, to give this thing up.

I have also tried much more not to give into pornography. On this front, I have been somewhat less successful. Old habits die hard. I’m trying to remember not to drift onto certain websites. A few times I’ve literally just had to close out my computer and get away from it. Even though I have given in a few times, though, I know the times I was able to resist was the working and help of God. And that is really my main point writing about all of this. In trying to resist these two temptations, I have felt closer to God. I’ve prayed to him more for strength, for guidance, for forgiveness, and for thanks in what help He has given me.

I know some people may say that it is stupid trying to resist these two things, or in having some problem with them. But I think if fighting them brings me in some way closer to God, then that must be a good thing. And so, I hope to continue fighting on, resisting with all I can and with God helping me.

Last night, however, after eight days resisting the temptation to masturbate, I ended up giving in. I just couldn’t seem to find any means of which to stop myself. And afterward, unlike with the pornography, I felt so severely convicted, guilty, self-loathing, and shameful that it was pathetic. I felt like a kid who’d done something so wrong it was unforgiveable and heartbreaking. The result was that I stayed up most of the night, unable to sleep, hating myself for what I had done.

I still feel some of those feelings, but I know God forgives me. And I know that giving in last night doesn’t take away the fact that I resisted all those days before. I know that I’m still loved by God and that He will still help me going forward. And going forward, I’m going to try not to think of myself the way the devil would like for me to. He wants me to think I’m a failure and that I’m no good, and that I should just give up completely. But, as I said earlier, I’m not going to do that. I’m going to pick myself back up (even if that means a thousand different times) and continue fighting, with God hand in hand beside me.

If doing this brings me closer to God, then that’s what I want to do.

The Affect of Dreams

I’m not usually the sort of person who lets his nightly dreams bother him much, but every once in a while there is a dream so vivid, so realistic, and so profound that it just weighs on me and can cause me to adjust my behaviors or attitudes. Last night, I had one of those dreams. To put it more accurately, I had a nightmare.

It started off with my brother and me on a trip, driving through the country and into some small town in the hills. We got lost and ended up on a little road leading out into some woods. We found that the road dead-ended in a circle leading back out. There was another family parked just ahead. As we got out of the car to stretch our legs and look at the map, a couple of men came out of the woods and began harassing the other family. My brother and I approached to see if we could help. That’s when some guns were shown and all of us were marched off. The dream got a bit blurry at this point and began again with me at a younger age (maybe twelve or thirteen), as well as the rest of my family, being held up by gunpoint by a few other men and at least one woman in the home we used to live in. We were all in the living room, and mom suggested I go to the laundry room to get my clean clothes out (she suggested this with gestures insinuating that would be my opportunity to slip out of the house and get away for help). So, I went off to the laundry room. One of the men followed me though. He stopped outside of the room and I went in, quickly thinking about how to get away. After a minute or so, the man walked in behind me and closed the door. I was nervous and panicked about what he wanted. He looked me over and began telling me how attractive he thought I was. He wore an arrogant smile as he looked at me. He then turned me toward the washer and dryer and began pulling at my clothes. I protested in a quiet, scared, nervousness—which basically means I felt powerless to put up much of a fight. At this time, my dad was in the other room trying to get in to find out what was happening. I was ashamed for him to see and yelled for him to stay away. But it wasn’t just that I was ashamed. I didn’t want him to interrupt the attention I was getting from this good looking guy. The man then began raping me. I didn’t want him to, but at the same time I was enjoying it and didn’t really want him to stop either. When he’d finished, he turned me around. A woman friend of his was standing next to him. They were both smiling at me and talking curiously about me to each other. The man then told me to get down on my knees (for what purpose you should know). As I did, I saw his genitals for the first time. I stopped and just looked. He was covered with bumps. He laughed and told me, “Don’t you like what you see?” I felt disgusted and horrified, but also confused. I looked up at him and he told me he had herpes, and that he’d just given it to me. At this point I felt horrified. I just looked up at him and asked, “You gave me herpes on purpose?” He just laughed again, along with the woman, and they began talking about how stupid I was. I just sat there on the floor, on my knees, totally appalled, feeling completely assaulted and taken advantage of, crying. And then the dream ended. I woke up, at 4:00am, scared and panicky in my dark room. I was literally shaking. I got up and turned on the light in my closet (it was nearest) and I just stood there for a moment trying to catch my breath and realize that it was only a dream. It was, in every sense, a nightmare though. It was just so real.

I tell you this dream, and in full, because, as I said at the start, some dreams do have an impact on me. This was one of them. I know why I had this dream. The last few days I’ve been trying very hard not to masturbate. I’m on day five now, which I hope to continue, and which I will give full credit to God. But as if the lack of sexual release over the last few days wasn’t enough to promote such a dream, it was only advanced by the fact that I binged for a couple of hours yesterday looking at pornography. I tried to resist, but my resolve and willingness was admittedly not enough—I was feeling kind of down about it being Valentine’s Day and just honestly didn’t feel much like trying. Like yesterday, today, I wasn’t called in to work, and so I prayed and promised to God that with his help I’d make today what yesterday should have been. So far, I’ve kept that promise and I intend to keep it the whole day through and hopefully beyond just this day. I told you the dream I had because it was in having this dream that helped push me closer to God, to try harder for him, to seek out his guidance more, and to rely more on his help. This sort of thing happens every once and a while. And maybe God allowed such a dream to take root knowing that it would have such an impact on me. Regardless of the how and why of the dream, I know that I do not want to look at pornography at all today. I want to put forward the strongest resistance possible. And, likewise, I want to continue resisting any urges to masturbate.

Even though I’m sure none of us really ever like having a bad dream, I suppose a story like mine can prove that some good can come of them. God can reach us for His and our benefit in a variety (and sometimes even very unpleasant) of ways.

My Blog is Porn? Really?

Well, in the usual fashion to get to my blog, I entered the name of my blog on Netscape. Out of curiosity, I looked at the search results to see where all my blog was popping up. As it turned out, another blogger had referenced my blog in one of his recent posts. He had this to say:

“What's that you say? That last one [Afterthoughts on a Whirlwind Journey] isn't a sex blog? No. It's not, but it's still a porn blog. Reading the private, inner thoughts of a closeted Christian struggling with his attraction to men (Whose love will he pick Jesus or another man's? Will he realize that it's not an either/or decision?) is totally pornographic. Totally.”

I have to admit, the idea of my blog being a “porn blog” is sort of bewildering to me. I’ve never thought of my blog being anything that could be described as erotic. I have tried to avoid being blatantly graphic in descriptions of my thoughts/past, and, to the best of my knowledge, I have yet to post any inappropriate images or videos. So I am confused by someone finding my blog to have an erotic appeal to it. I am intrigued, though, because I wonder now what it is about my blog that might come across as pornographic or overtly erotic. Perhaps the nature of my blog, the fact that I am a “closeted (for the most part) Christian struggling with his attraction to men” and that I have shared some “private, inner thoughts”, does appeal to the erotic fantasies or stimuli of some people. Whatever the reason, if my blog does come across that way, this “totally” throws me for a loop. The intentions of my blog has never been to provide material for anyone’s sexual pleasure, but merely to be a place where people, like myself, who have struggled with their sexuality, can read about and learn from my own experiences and gain comfort in knowing that they are not alone in their own struggles. But, whereas I do not see the erotic appeal, far be it from me to suggest that nobody else does/can.

I guess the question I should ask now is does my blog have a pornographic, sexual, or otherwise inappropriate feel, perception, or appeal to it? If you think it does, I’d honestly like to know why. If you think it doesn’t, give me your viewpoint as well. I’m just trying to figure this thing out.

Moving onto another topic… how many of you think Conan O’Brien should stay the host of the Tonight Show? This has sort of been in the news a bunch lately. But just so that everyone knows where I stand on the issue, I think Leno should move on, Conan should stay, and NBC should wholeheartedly support the new guy (who’s just as good if not better than his predecessor). Just because Leno’s new show hasn’t panned out doesn’t mean the entire late night schedule and the lives and careers of all those involved should be messed around with. I just prefer Conan O’Brien to Jay Leno. There. I said it. Sue me.

Pornography on My Mind

So much of the time my Dad just makes me feel like a failure. I feel like I can never live up to his expectations of me, and nothing I ever do is right by him. I can’t talk with him. Not about anything deep or emotional anyway. Every time I’ve ever tried I’ve ended up feeling as though he’s judged me. Lately I think he’d honestly just like me to leave and stay gone. There’s no intimacy with him.

My mom would just like to control me (along with everyone else in the family). I’ve spent the last few years in particular distancing myself from her. And in doing so, I’ve come to realize she really doesn’t understand me at all. I don’t really understand her either though. But I also can’t seem to live up to her expectations. And like with dad, I can’t talk to her. There’s no intimacy with her.

My brother has his own problems. But he shows little empathy for my own. I’ve tried talking with him about my struggles with homosexuality, and he never seems to understand. His views on certain aspects of religion are also different from mine. He’s probably the best friend I have right now. But, to be honest, if my brother wasn’t my brother, I’m not so sure I’d be friends with him at all. He shows me time after time that he doesn’t respect me at all; he constantly pushes me away. There’s some, but very little intimacy with him.

What friends I have, I’ve always found it incredibly hard to open up to them. Looking back, I realize most of my friends in high school never really knew me at all. Some of that was my fault, but some of it was that they never really tried to know me better. People I’d consider friends now, most of them never call me or invite me to anything. I feel more like my friends are just acquaintances sometimes. And I’ve found friends who I thought I was close to that never considered me as close a friend as I did them. Some friends I’ve not heard back from in a long time. Some people who I thought were friends turned out not to be at all. There’s very little intimacy with friends.

I don’t belong to a church family. I thought I did, but I was proven wrong. I went to my church for help and was turned away. I was neglected. My problems weren’t worth the effort, concern, prayers, love. I quit going to church for three months this last fall and not a single person ever once checked up on me to see how I was doing or to find out where I’d been. It’s been several weeks now since I’ve gone, and again, no response. Now, this is a church I’ve gone to my entire life. It’s like they don’t even care about me enough to find out where I’ve been or what has happened to me. There’s no intimacy at church.

I want so much to feel loved by God and to feel his presence with me. Not just some of the time, but all of the time. I’d love to feel God’s arms around me and to hear him say, “I love you, Brandon.” But so much of the time I can’t help wondering whether God’s abandoned me or what. I get so discouraged. I feel as though I can’t trust him or rely on him. I don’t understand God a lot of times and I just get so frustrated not knowing what he wants from me. I’m just not sure what my role is in my relationship with him. And because of that, it’s hard for me to feel like I can be intimate with God sometimes.

Where have I found intimacy then? More times than not, it has been by looking at pornography and living in a fantasy world. And what good has that done me?

A few days ago I was looking at pornography and I came across one particular model who I decided to follow. In a “behind the scenes” moment, the guy who he’d just been with was saying he was glad he’d hurt him during their sex act. I watched the model’s face literally transform the minute the other guy said this. He gained a sort of disappointed, empty look which could only say, “Oh, so that was the only reason you had sex with me. You just wanted to hurt me.” I literally felt like I was going to throw up when I watched that. And you know that’s the thing about pornography: the more you see it and let it consume you, and the more you begin to see or understand the behind the scenes processes of it all, the more you realize just how sad and tragic that whole industry really is. It’s pathetic, really.

But I struggle with pornography. I have for several years now. Sometimes I struggle less and can stay away from it for long periods of time, and other times I can hardly keep myself from it. I know the reason I keep going back to it though is because so much of the time I feel no source of intimacy. When I look at pornography, I can place myself within that act. I feel an odd sort of comfort and closeness to the men I see, almost as if I’m right there with them. I feel them holding me, looking into my eyes, telling me they love me. It’s strange really. I guess you could say that when I look at pornography I steal those other men’s counterfeit intimacy for myself. I see what I’d like for myself. And it’s not really the sex, but just the closeness. Having said that, however, I can’t help feeling sometimes like I have had sex with hundreds of other men. To feel the way I do while looking at pornography, that sort of makes sense.

The truth is my heart aches for them though. As dirty as I feel after watching pornography, I can’t imagine how dirty some of the models must feel after they’ve been filmed. I want so badly to be able to reach out to them, to be friends with them, and to show them there’s something better in life. I did contact a male model one time on Facebook, awhile back. He never wrote back to me, but to my knowledge he’s never been in any pornography since then. I really don’t know if that had anything to do with my writing to him or not, but I hope it did. It would thrill me to no end to find out he completely left that life behind and found Christ.

But I’d just like to know them. I find it so frustrating so much of the time that the only gay persons I ever get to see are ones online or on television or movies. The only people who ever seem to understand me at all are those who also struggle with homosexuality. You know, it used to puzzle me how gays in cities would form whole communities for themselves. Anymore, it makes perfect sense. When they do that, they get to be around those who understand them, to build friendships, family, intimacy. They find, at least to some small extent, the closeness they’ve been missing from others in their lives. And for a great many of them, that includes from the churches that turned them away.

I want to find intimacy through some other means than gay pornography. I don’t want to watch something fake. I don’t want to watch people hurting themselves. I don’t want to live my life in a fantasy, having sex with the shadows of other men. I want real intimacy (and I don’t mean sex). I don’t know how or where I’ll find it, but I know it can’t be found looking at pornography. Nor can it be found by having sex with other men.

May God forgive me for all the wasted time I’ve spent thinking it would.

Still Searching For Something

I find you watching me in that dull, dark place, behind closed doors.

I struggle to refrain as I see your loving face, so gentle so kind.

You whisper for me to put aside those lesser things.

I continue anyway.

I feel you breathing upon me, as I myself begin breathing more heavily.

I resist your nudging, urging me, pulling me away.

I continue viewing.

Those other bodies draw me in—my insatiable appetite never fulfills.

My pulse increases as my desires consume me.

I block you out of my mind completely; I force you away.

I remain in that dark, secret place.

When I've finally gone for as long as I can, to a point of shear exhaustion, I tire of my lusting.

I collapse in my own heat and sweat and begin wondering what it was all for.

Why did I block you out? Why did I view those things?

For what happiness does it ever bring me?

Oh, why didn't I listen to you, my friend, my brother, my Lord, my Savior, my everything?

Why couldn't I stop myself?

Why do these desires so utterly, entirely, so forcefully, envelop me?

I think of my own weaknesses, insecurities and struggles.

I see myself loveless, inadequate, guilt-ridden, and lonely.

I pray for forgiveness, but I feel that you've left me.

I keep expecting you to eventually forever forsake me.

But then I feel a hint of your love and my hope is renewed.

You raise my chin and tell me, “It's okay, my child.

I love you beyond words. I forgive you unconditionally.

Don't wallow in your self-pity any longer.

Fight it, resist it, you're my joy and my heritage.

I'll never forsake you or leave you to this.”

I go two days happy, maybe three at the most,

full of hope and new joy—a new commitment fills my soul and my mind.

I feel as though I'm floating above cloud nine, itself.

But then something happens.

I break and fall dangerously back downwards to earth.

And the longer I fall, the more I don't seem to care.

I close the door behind me once more, to secure my seclusion.

I power up the source and search wildly and endlessly,

craving something so badly I can't ever seem to behold.

I remember past lessons and attempt to go to Thee.

For I'm told you're the only one who could ever satisfy me so wholly.

But that doesn't seem to work. I can't make it work. Nothing seems to change.

And then I feel like I'm about to explode or go crazy,

so I run away from you madly, intently.

I come full circle again, back to my medication, my drug,

my quick fix to take care of that wanting so badly,

that which I know I cannot have.

Then the confusion sets in and my mind becomes hazy,

as the thoughts begin swirling about me.

I want something more, but I'm not sure what I want more.

Can't I have both? No, I don't think so. You tell me I can't.

But for how long should I struggle? For what answers will you give me?

What relief will befall me?

I want your love, but I want to be held.

I want someone to touch and to be with. I want companionship with someone.

And as much as I'm told that you'll fill that empty void, you seem to rarely come through.

Your love means so much to me, and I'll always choose you—at least in the end.

I know I can't escape you, no matter what I do.

You always bring me back to you.

But the other seems to always brings me back to it, too.

There's just no escape from either, no relief whatever I do.

Where is my other? Where is that special someone for me?

And if not he than she? Does this other person exist?

Do you have someone else for me?

When you took the rib from my body, did you create me a helper?

Did you make me a partner, a soul mate, a best friend and true love?

Or was it to no use?

Please tell me I'm not destined to be alone.

Don't leave me behind those closed doors, chasing shadows of strangers,

knowing those shadows aren't mine, and that I shouldn't be looking—

it's a poor substitute for something so much grander.

And it's that grander fulfillment I truly wish to require.

Please don't let this dream die.

I think I'd rather stay stuck in this cycle forever with what little hope I have left,

than to break free just a shell and all empty inside.

Something seems to be missing, Lord.

Something seems to be missing and you know I'm just trying to find it.

I'm just trying to find it. And the way I'm feeling right now, you know “it” is he.

If he's out there, lead me to him. If he's not, lead me away.

But lead me to someone or something, oh Lord,

because I'm so very tired of being locked behind these closed doors,

far away in that dark, drab place,

searching endlessly, desperately for what seems like will be forever in vain.

And I don't want to remain here forever, but I admit,

even forever right here, seems better than nothing or never—it's the next closest thing.

Perhaps what I really am after is a better me?

But whatever “it” is, please lead me to it.

Please satisfy this desire some way as only you can, Lord.

Please just take this feeling and do something with it.

My Fight Against Pornography

The first time I ever looked at pornography was when I was twelve years old. I had went to the theater with a friend of mine and halfway through the movie he nudged me and asked me to accompany him to the restroom. When we got there we were alone, and he proceeded to pull out a Hustler magazine from under his sweater. He told me he had found it in his father's closet and quickly began showing me some of the pictures of naked girls inside. That was how pornography entered my life—through a friend.

From that moment on, I would be consumed with a pornography addiction for another ten years. I realized Hustler didn't exactly have what I wanted to see, and so it wasn't long until I began secretly looking up gay porn on the internet while my parents were away. I'd wait for times when they were away or asleep at night and then I'd get online and look up one picture after another. There were days when I remember doing absolutely nothing but look up porn. And I remember times when I would anxiously look forward to getting home just so I could take a look. I'm sickened now by the thought of how much time I've wasted in my life doing all that. I was a slave to it.

It was pornography that led to my brother finding out I liked other men. While I was at work one day, he decided to snoop through my bedroom and he came across a couple of videos I had. Neither one was marked in any way to indicate what they were, but having them hid, I suppose he put two and two together as to what they must be. He put one of them on and immediately saw two men having sex with each other. He acted funny around me for about a month before finally telling me what he'd seen. At that point, he had moved into his own place and wasn't wanting anything to do with me. It was when I stopped by his place one evening after work that he told me.

I didn't want my little brother knowing I was gay. In fact, I'd always hated the thought of him finding out. So, when he told me he knew, I was devastated to say to the least. And I was even more devastated when he told me some of the hard truths of the matter; that I was living in sin, acting and believing in things that I shouldn't. But the worst of it was that he didn't want to be around me anymore.

After a period of grieving due to my exposed sins, I realized my brother was right. I didn't need to be looking at that stuff. I threw away those two videos and most of the magazines I had, and I tried my best not to look at any of it online. But I also realized I was addicted to it. It's been said that pornography can be a drug, and that's certainly true. I used it that way. I'd look at those other men having sex, and I'd visualize I was either one of them or a further participant. I did that in order to feel closer to other men and accepted—to feel better about myself, in some strange way. I don't know how many men I've had sex with that way. It's more than I can remember. But looking back, I see how true Jesus' words are about those who lust with the eye, committing adultery in the heart. I might not have physically been there, but I might as well have been. The effect was the same. None of that ever truly made me feel better or more accepted. It only made me feel dirty and guilt-ridden, and ashamed. And it made me feel even more distanced from other men, and God.

Over the last two and half years, I've not only been trying to give up pornography, but homosexuality as well. I've never found any true happiness by engaging in any of that sort of thing. And believing those things to be sinful in nature, I want to resist giving into them because I know they are against God, and what God wants for me. Nothing good could ever come from those things.

Having said that, I have to admit that at times I do still give in. I struggle with myself not to give into pornography, lust, creating sexual fantasies, masturbation, and this annoying fixation of wanting to just give up this fight and go out and find myself a boyfriend and to just be gay. I know none of these things are good. However, in moments of weakness, I find myself giving into them. I don't give into them like I used to. In fact, I can see very clearly where in the last couple of years I have managed to gradually wean myself away from them. In the case of pornography, I initially only threw away about half of what I had. Then a few months later (about a year ago), I added XXXchurch, an online accountability program, to my computer. That's helped me dramatically in resisting online pornography. And only a few months ago, I threw away what magazines or pictures I still had left. I went from looking at the stuff on almost a daily basis, to now-a-day only looking at it maybe once every other month, if that. At least that's how it's been the last year or so, and I hope I'll eventually reach a point of not ever looking at it.

I've been questioned about the level of hatred I have for the stuff, and I'll admit that it's probably not enough. But I do hate it. I hate the thought of what sort of lives those other guys must be living, and their lack of humility in allowing the whole world to view them that way. I hate the thought that those guys, more than likely, are just like me in so many ways. They've probably went through some of the exact same pains and grief and struggling in their lives as I have. And to see them living out a lie, that homosexual sex will somehow bring them some sort of happiness, saddens me beyond belief.

In my last post, I mentioned the regret I felt about looking at pornography last Friday night. Yes, I hated the way it made me feel afterwards. It made me feel dirty and ashamed. But I also hated the fact that I'd given into something and supported something that's ruining so many people's lives. I hated that I'd disobeyed God like I did. I hated the fact that the whole time I was looking at it, God was gently calling me away from it through a song I've been listening to lately, and yet I ignored His call. I hate that, by giving in, I only managed to set myself back even further from the goal I wish to achieve. To be free!

Jay mentioned about praying for those people in the pornography as a means of deterring myself from looking at it. It was in doing that that I've been able to reduce so drastically the amount of time I spend looking at pornography. In the last year, I don't know if I've even looked at any of it a total of ten times, but any number of times is too many. Usually, when tempted to look, I think back to one particular guy—a thin, weak looking, young man—whose image has pretty much been burned into the back of my mind, and I pray for him. I pray that he's no longer involved in any of that, and that he's found God, living right, and is happy. I've even cried for him a few times. I've wanted to reach out and to help him. And yet I'll never be able to. I'll never know if my prayers have helped him. At least not in this life. And I realize that it's people like me who give that industry the money which allowed him to be bought into that. I think about all that, and whatever desire to look at pornography I've felt goes right out the window. I no longer see those guys as sexual objects. I see them as REAL people with REAL problems and REAL struggles, and I feel sorry for them. And I feel sorrow for their families as well.

In my last post, I posed the question “So why do I keep turning to other things” instead of God? I know why I did the other night. I was feeling frustrated, stressed, tired, and lonely, and all that had basically built up for over a week to the point where that was all that was on my mind. And I just no longer cared about resisting. I just wanted to feel something good for a change. So, I turned to pornography and masturbation. And, naturally, that did absolutely nothing to help me with my problems. It only left me feeling more frustrated than I did. When I turned to those things, it was only because I'd allowed so many things to weigh me down that I'd pushed God to the back of my mind. As I said before, I should have been turning to Christ concerning everything that's been going on lately, and instead, I was ignoring Him and turning to old ways. I temporarily forgot all I had learned the last couple of years and resorted back to what used to work--to what physically feels good. I'm not trying to justify what I did, only to try to explain why I think I did it.

One of you mentioned you thought I was being a little hard on myself. Maybe I was. Now I say that, because we all fall from time to time. Not one of us is perfect, and in moments of weakness it's real easy sometimes to slip up. It's important to remember that and not just fall to pieces when that happens. God still loves you and forgives you even if you do give in to temptation.

I think about the Apostle Paul when he wrote to the Romans, “We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.”

What Paul was saying is that no body's perfect. We are all tempted by something, and sometimes we give in to those thing, even if we don't want to. That's why I keep on turning to other things. It's in the sinfulness of the flesh that I am constantly battling. The desire to please God verses the desire to please myself. The other night, I allowed my flesh to take over. I wanted to please myself, and so I gave in to something I hate. I did that which I did not want to do.

In Jeff Konrad's book, “You Don't Have to Be Gay”, he uses an acronym to help people better learn when they might fall. That acronym is H.A.L.T., which stands for “Are you hungry, are you angry, are you lonely, are you tired?” It is in these feelings that people are most likely to give up their fights and give into their temptations. In learning how to recognize these feelings when they come upon you, a person can work to counter these things and be on their guard. The other night, I was both lonely and tired. I suppose I was a little angry about a few things as well. And rather than recognizing these things and turning to God for help, I decided to wallow in self-pity and depression and take an easy, temporary, way out. That's why I looked at that pornography.

Now, to talk about the effects of pornography. I know it's polluted my mind. It's caused me to envy and lust after other men. I've held these above average looking guys up on a pedestal and downgraded the very body God gave me. I've told myself I could never measure up to or be as good as them. That I'm not good-looking. In truth, I don't really think I'm that bad off. However, I am still awfully self-conscious about my looks sometimes. It's damaged my self-esteem. And in looking at those other guys having sex, that has made me want to have sex as well. It's tempted me to not only look, but go out and do. It's made me feel dirty and ashamed and distanced from God. And it's saddened me. I'm saddened to think about how much of my life I've wasted on it. I'm saddened by the secrecy of looking at it. I'm saddened by the thought that, by looking at it, I've supported it, and therefore allowed it to continue on in the world. I've helped other people sin, by looking at it, and that bothers me greatly. I'm mournful for those men, and women, who get sucked in and involved in that industry.

I know if I could go back in time, to when my friend first introduced me to pornography, I would tell him “No thanks” and I'd never again take another look at it. But since I can't go back, all I can do is pray for forgiveness and do absolutely everything I can to resist and to fight the temptations to look at it. If any of you are struggling with pornography, please do everything you can to give it up too. Throw away all of it you have. Stay out of the adult bookstores and the like. Find an accountability partner. Add the XXXchurch program onto your computer. Even better, add on the SafeEyes internet filter. Whatever you do, just get away from it as much as you can. Turn to Jesus and live to please Him rather than yourself. Because that's where only true happiness lies. It's not found in pornography.

The Bomb Went Off

Last night, I fell apart and gave into sin. I'd felt really upset about a few things going on in my life right now, and on top of that, I was feeling very lonely. For a few reasons I've felt somewhat rejected the last two or three days, and I suppose I let that get the better of me. After a few hours of sporadic crying and feeling sorry for myself, I resolved to go online and try to get my mind off of everything. I checked my email, looked at the comments from my last post, commented back, and then just started browsing a few other websites I like to look up from time to time. Well, I should have known better. Feeling lonely and depressed, and being online, is never a good idea for me. I ended up looking up a couple of pornographic websites I used to look up quite regularly back a year or two ago. And naturally, that led to me giving in to masturbation. By one in the morning last night, I'd managed to make myself feel even worse than I did to begin with. I turned last night into a night of rebellion, giving into sinful temptations I knew better than to give into. I knew I should have turned to God with all those things that's been bothering me. I should have let Jesus fill that void that I've been feeling lately. But that's not what I did. I turned to things which didn't satisfy any of those feelings, but only left me feeling dirty and so full of remorse that I went to bed crying my eyes out, hoping like crazy God would forgive me.

This morning, I woke up feeling just as bad as I did last night. I felt lifeless and empty, and so depressed that I couldn't stand it. I decided to write to my Setting Captives Free mentor and confess what I'd done, and to ask him to pray for me about the things that have been bothering me. In the middle of writing to him, I realized he didn't need to be the first person I turned to for help. I knew I needed to turn to Jesus to make things right. I stopped my writing, bowed my head, and prayed. I took everything to Jesus first. I asked Him to forgive me, and to help me with everything that's been going on. I did what I should have done in the first place when I first started feeling bad. That's helped me. I don't feel quite as bad now as I did. I do still feel bad about what I did last night, because I knew better than to do those things, but I know I made the right decision today, and I've made things right with God again.

I just wish I could remember to always turn to Jesus first! I wish I could get it stuck in my mind to always trust Him to help me--in all things. I don't know why I can't seem to fully learn that lesson. I don't know why I keep turning to all those other things all the time. I know they never help me. They only leave me feeling worse--about myself, and everything. I know nothing but Jesus ever really works to make me happy. He's the only one who ever satisfies me. He's the only one whose always there for me, loves me, comforts me, and cares for me. He's the best friend anyone could ever have.

So why do I keep turning to other things?